


The Effect of Gravity on Romance, A Dissertation by Midorima Shintarou

by xhiro



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 13:07:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4436621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xhiro/pseuds/xhiro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They’re all just joking to mess with you. You don’t have to sulk so much.”</p><p>Takao’s voice is only just audible over the sound of the wheels dipping into a pothole. Midorima furrows his brow in a dignified manner.</p><p>“I am only despairing over the rather fundamental lack of understanding of basic science in our generation.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Effect of Gravity on Romance, A Dissertation by Midorima Shintarou

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for [bps' challenge 131: Team Battle.](http://basketballpoetsociety.tumblr.com/tagged/challenge-no-131) I was gonna go back and like... add more and make it less bad but then I almost forgot about this so
> 
> Really really really awful misuse and misunderstanding of science.
> 
> I really tried to read up, but I’m fairly certain I’ve abused science for my own two-dimensional romantic desires. I also apologize for any OOC, this is my first time writing these two. I really wanted to participate in BPS for the longest time, so I’m really glad I finally could at least on the last one!!!
> 
> There's one original character (??) because this takes place in third year and I needed extras

_gravity_  
_[grav-i-tee]_

  
_1\. the force of attraction by which terrestrial bodies tend to fall toward the center of the earth._

  
_2\. heaviness or weight._

  
_3\. serious or dignified behavior; dignity; solemnity_

 

  
There are two basic principles to the law of gravity:

The greater the mass of an object, the greater its force.

The closer the distance between two objects, the more greatly the pull affects them.

Midorima’s classmates had joked in class that the law couldn’t be true since Midorima’s height seemed to have the opposite effect. He had tried to explain that that wasn’t how it worked since mass wasn’t directly proportional to size, but none of them had ever stayed close for long enough.

Midorima still held out for the possibility that he was an exception. That he was a solitary pillar on the court with arms drawn back for a brief moment, spring coiled, until they released. The sound of the ball hitting the ground his only companion. Without affecting things around him, and without being drawn in by anything around him.

It was against all logic.

(Never mind the fact that his pull was nowhere near the strength required to affect anything visibly.)

But he still checked his forecast every morning and avoided auspicious numbers, because there were such things as inexact sciences.

“They’re all just joking to mess with you. You don’t have to sulk so much.”

Takao’s voice is only just audible over the sound of the wheels dipping into a pothole. Midorima furrows his brow in a dignified manner.

“I am only despairing over the rather fundamental lack of understanding of basic science in our generation.”

This time Takao actually turns his head around to give him a skeptical raise of his eyebrow. Midorima tells him to keep his eyes on the road.

That ruled out the possibility of Midorima’s mass pulling anything around him (a ridiculous notion). Staring at the mole at the back of Takao’s left ear then, Midorima starts to measure four-hundred and fifty six kilometres. He thinks about one hundred centimetres. He converts it to two hundred and seventeen days left in the year.

“You’d have to be as big as the moon, wouldn’t you?” Takao shouts over his shoulder.

“It’s about density,” Midorima counts the constellations on the back in front of him. “Density.”

 

∞∞∞

 

_216_

“Do you really have to untie them every time you eat lunch too?” The younger Miyaji watches seemingly entranced by the daily ritual.

“I prefer to wash my hands before and after every meal, but I recognize that you prefer to revel in your unsanitary habits.” The usual scowl reappears on Miyaji’s face and Midorima washes his hands.

It isn’t until a while later, when they’re halfway through their lunches that they spot Takao emerging from the teacher’s office across the hall. His reappearance is duly (loudly) noted by Miyaji beside Midorima who does in fact have eyes.

By the third ‘Takao’ he finally notices them and comes over, a brief look of consternation melting into his usual grin.

“What were you doing in the teacher’s office?” Miyaji starts conversationally as he pulls his yakisoba bread out of reach. “Did you get in trouble for jerking off in class?”

Takao steals his milk instead, “Not this time.” Midorima sends a withering glance at both of them. They grin identical smug grins at him and he thinks on the existence of god.

He’s distracted from his ontological questioning when Takao leans heavily against him. “Teacher was pissed because I haven’t handed in my future goals sheet yet.”

“Ohh. Aren’t you gonna play college ball somewhere local?” Miyaji frowns down at the strangely empty wrapper in his hand.

There’s a brief pause, too short to be anything significant, but Midorima notices.

“I haven’t decided yet.” He glances up at Midorima, a vague smile on his lips. “Shin-chan, have you handed yours in yet?”

An offended adjusting of glasses. “The due date was last week.”

“I know, I know, but I was just distracted by a lot of things!” Takao laughs airily, waving the half-eaten bread in his hand. Midorima holds his lunch box protectively out of the path of the errant grain product.

“I can’t imagine with what. The season’s over.”

Takao just continues his merrymaking and mumbles something about of course Shin-chan would’ve handed his in already between breaths. His laugh sounds a little manic, but it’s nothing out of the ordinary so Midorima puts away his lunch concisely.

Miyaji looks at the both of them slightly concerned.

He then notices where his bread went and proceeds to get into a fist fight with Takao.

All in all an uneventful day.

 

∞∞∞

 

The biggest event for third years is undoubtedly the school trip.

Personally Midorima prefers Kiyomizudera, but he supposes the view of the temple gleaming from across the pond is acceptable. He only wishes it were less crowded.

“I don’t know how much longer I can hold this smile,” Takao murmurs through closed teeth, the effect of holding the same pose for ten minutes straining even his sunny smile. Midorima squints ahead past Takao’s peace sign to see that Ookubo is still trying to explain to the foreigner exactly what he wants with the camera through a mixture of gestures and garbled english. It’s mostly random English words he’s picked up from comedians.

“I’m still not comprehending why Ookubo has been sent to be the mediator.” Midorima observes.

“I told you already,” Miyaji’s jovial grip around his shoulders tightens and the edge of his smile starts to look a little terrifying. “Ookubo has the best English out of all of us.”

Watching Ookubo make a gesture halfway between the running man and banzai Midorima somehow has trouble believing that. The conversation seems like it’s going to take a while.

“Did you end up handing in your form by the way?” Miyaji glances at Takao and the two seem to decide simultaneously to drop the smile.

“Oh, that… yeah.”

“Where did you decide on going?”

Takao’s gaze drifts over to Ookubo who’s actually taken out his cellphone to help with the proceedings. “I was looking at a few schools in Tokyo… but I was thinking about Chukyo for my top choice.”

“Nagoya?” Midorima cuts in.

Takao blinks back at Midorima, his eyes blank and vague. A red leaf floats past his shoulder.

“Yeah.” His lips twist up at the corner and he winks at Midorima suddenly, “Gonna miss me, Shin-chan?”

Midorima and the stuffed koala hanging around his neck both glower at him. “Rubbish. You have to pass the exam first to even get in.”

Takao laughs, wounded, and tries to convince the marsupial to comfort him.

Ookubo finally seems to make a breakthrough with the foreigner and rushes over to get in place.

Midorima wonders how Takao could be so dense.

  
∞∞∞

  
“You have a few choices at this point, Shintarou.” Akashi begins conversationally, as if he were discussing the weather. “You could retreat and allow me to take more territory, you could defend your position and risk losing more pieces,” he lists off the choices on his hand, each finger piercing the air. “Or you could move forward, taking an aggressive stance. Although,” He eyes Midorima’s unguarded king with a look of disappointment, “Your pieces are not in a favorable position for that.”

“Are you really in a position to be giving your opponent advice in the middle of a game?” Midorima moves his knight forward and captures one of Akashi’s pawns, placing the piece with a bit more force than necessary. The sound of the wooden piece clacking in his tray is satisfying.

Akashi doesn’t miss a beat. With a snap Midorima’s knight is suddenly threatened by two pieces. “I believe I am.”

Midorima narrows his eyes and removes his glasses. He takes out his cloth and slowly, and methodically, starts wiping them clean. He’s at his patience’s end, which he usually is when he’s playing against Akashi, but for some reason, his ex-captain seems even more insufferable than usual.

“Are you aware of where your weakness lies, Shintarou?”

“I believe you are going to enlighten me.”

“You’re rigid.” Midorima raises a brow at the blurry red figure who continues, “You rely on old strategies and formations that have been tested repeatedly. While sound, it causes you to hesitate when I play out of your expectations.”

Nevermind the fact that the one who taught Midorima this style of play was Akashi himself (through hard experience). But he does have to admit that Akashi’s style of play has evolved since their first year. Nevertheless there is nothing wrong with following tried and tested formulas.

There are exact certainties in the universe.

Midorima is about to protest this when Akashi cuts him off with a decisive wave of his hand.

“Make a decision.”

  
∞∞∞

  
The last night of their trip Ookubo tries to convince his roommates to have a pillow fight. Miyaji shows him exactly what he thinks of that cliche and an hour later he’s still coughing out feathers.

The result after leaves their room looking like a chicken coop after a fox. They end up taking another hour to clean out every feather and ink spill from the tatami. Ookubo whines about being entirely innocent, the fresh writing of ‘idiot’ gleaming from his forehead and Miyaji tells him to shut up already, a matching mark on his forehead.

Takao doesn’t stop laughing and is entirely useless in helping. Midorima walks over to unceremoniously drop Takao’s futon over his head. Spotting the retaliation from a mile away, a hand darts out from the ground and pulls Midorima down. He does not let out an undignified squawk.

“This is childish.” Midorima frowns from above. His chin throbs from where it bashed against Takao’s shoulder.The response is a series of giggles that shake Midorima up and down. How Takao can still laugh through a throbbing bruise on his shoulder, he’ll never know.

“You’ve still got some in your hair.” Takao whispers, a breath away, and runs a hand through Midorima’s bangs. A tiny white feather floats down. “Can’t let anyone see any trace of your heavenly origins.” His eyes are clear and bright at this distance and Midorima can count fifteen centimetres. Takao’s hand lingers warm in his hair.

A second later Coach Nakatani pounds on their door and tells them to go to sleep.

The four of them retire quickly after that.

After they’re all in their respective futons, alarms set, and lights out, Midorima lies awake in the darkness. He listens to the sounds of the night around him. It’s strange how quiet the night there is compared to Tokyo. The usual sounds of cars rushing by and the occasional drunk are replaced by Ookubo’s loud snoring beside him. If it was a clear night, they could’ve seen the stars.

He turns over on his side and his eyes meet with another pair across from him. Takao blinks back blearily at him. He mouths ‘we could dump him in the river’ and for once Midorima nods in agreement. He turns back on his side.

Midorima lies for another ten minutes awake. He’s drifting off, feeling sleep about to overwhelm him when he hears Takao whisper.

“I was waiting for you, you know.”

Midorima snaps awake at that. Irritated and confused, he only manages a sharp, “What?”

Half an hour later he realizes the reply is never going to come as he hears the sound of Takao’s slow breathing join the snoring.

Midorima lies awake again after that, measuring the distance. It’s only when the morning sun starts filtering in that he finally loses consciousness, his last thoughts about the one hour flight he would never take.

  
∞∞∞

  
Density was a difficult term to explain in plain words. Most simply put, it was the measure of the amount of matter within a given volume. It was not directly proportional to volume necessarily. It explained the comparatively weak acting forces of some larger planets when compared to the earth. The earth was simply made of more stuff.

It served to explain phenomena like Kuroko Tetsuya. A tiny blue planet who attracted everything around him. Even when at first glance, he seemed so insubstantial. And though Midorima would never admit this to his face, people often underestimated how much there was to him.

It didn’t matter to Midorima. He was content with being a large body comprised of mostly empty spaces. There was less trouble when you didn’t attract anything around you.

His arms swing forward in a clear arc and the ball bounces off the rim of the basket. A solitary pillar unaffected by anything listens as each bounce of the ball along the waxed floor echoes in rejection.

“Aren’t you supposed to be studying for exams?”

Coach Nakatani bends down to pick up the ball and places it back in the cart. Midorima pushes his glasses back up.

“I am studying.”

The coach shrugs. “I’m not your homeroom teacher. You’re down to two wishes, however.”

“I don’t understand.” Midorima stares uncomprehendingly at the man. He’s also fairly sure they never referred to them as 'wishes’ before.

“I didn’t train you for three years to miss shots like that, so I know it’s not my fault,” He surveys the gym around him, hands akimbo, before his eyes finally land on Midorima. “What’s the trouble then?”

Why everyone suddenly seems convinced that there is something ailing him, Midorima is not sure. He’s also not sure why it’s suddenly everyone’s business.

“I’m not on the basketball team anymore.”

“And I’m not stupid.” The sharp look coach sends him is a warning and he think carefully about laps around the gym. Midorima flexes his fingers which itch for the ball.

“I was of the opinion that I was above the whims that tend to strike adolescents,” He begins finally. “It appears I was wrong.” He grits his teeth at the difficulty of talking. The coach dismisses his worry with a careless wave of his hand.

“Just take him on a date or something.”

“…excuse me?” He must be having hearing problems.

“From my experience, men enjoy them just as much as women.”

“Your experience?” Midorima wants to bleach his brain from the images associated with the coach and that.

“If that’s all, then we’re done with that,” The coach declares the topic dealt with. “You’re down to one last wish.”

“…please never give me advice on dating again.”

  
∞∞∞

  
“How much further until the top, Shin-chan? I’m freezing my ass off!”

Midorima pointedly ignores the complaints from behind him. He recognizes that his own posterior is starting to show symptoms of frost bite as well and that scaling a mountain in the dead of winter is perhaps not ideal, but he’s too far in it to admit his fault now. Takao makes another whining sound.

With much effort, they eventually make it to the peak of the mountain. Takao all but collapses on the snow as soon as they do, but he immediately jumps back at the cold. Coach Nakatani would be so disappointed.

“So why are we here anyway?” Takao chirps happily, returned to his former self with a cup of hot tea. He leans against Midorima as they both relax around the warmth of their drinks, seated on a pair of rocks.

“There.” Midorima points up abruptly at the sky and they both crane their necks. “The line of three stars, do you see it?”

Takao squints up at the lights in the sky and nods after a second. “Think so. Orion’s belt, right?”

“Or The Three Kings.” Midorima takes Takao’s finished drink with his and places them both aside. “Do you know the story behind it?” A shake of a head and Midorima continues,

“In Greek mythology, Orion was a great hunter of massive proportions. He claimed to be the greatest hunter of all time. Unparalleled and able to down any creature.

The queen of The Gods, Hera, angered by his haughty statement, sent a scorpion to humble him. The scorpion’s tail stung true and while Orion managed to slay the creature, he was downed.

In short, the scorpion was sent by the gods to strike down man for his hubris. To remind him that he is only human. So, don’t go to Nagoya and stay with me.”

“….huh?!”

Takao falls off the rock. “Wait, what?! How did those two things relate?”

“I thought it was fairly obvious.” Midorima glares down at Takao as though he’s talking to a small child, “Get up off the ground. It’s dirty.”

Takao actually starts laughing nervously in confusion. “How did this conversation topic even come up?” He takes Midorima’s outstretched hand, but he stares at even it disbelievingly.

Midorima mutters something under his breath and Takao badgers him until he finally admits, “…coach told me I should take you on a date.” He can almost see the question marks forming on Takao’s face this time.

“I don’t…” Takao’s features narrow in confusion for another second longer before he suddenly looks around, up at the night sky, down at the drinks on the ground and then finally at Midorima’s hand and his eyes widen. “…oh my god.” His knees buckle and he sits down involuntarily. “Ohhh my god.” He’s lost to the world and keeps muttering the same words to himself over and over again with his face in his hands. “Oh my  _god_.”

Midorima shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “It’s not that odd, is it?” The look Takao gives him keeps him from asking anymore questions.

After a while, when Midorima reasons that as long as he keeps his toes in the snow for half an hour they could probably sew them back on, Takao’s thin voice cuts the air.

“Would you have ever said anything?” His voice wavers a moment, “If I didn’t decide to go away for school?” His breath comes out in white puffs and Midorima can’t help but watch them a moment, trying to decode the secret meaning hidden in them. He breathes secret messages on his hands instead.

“I never thought I had to. I thought…” For once it comes out hesitantly, without a hint of condescension, “I thought it was obvious.”

A surprised laughs rips out of Takao, crisp and clear in the dark night. He peeks open his eyes, and looks at Midorima sideways, tracing his outline with his gaze, cheeks ruddy with cold.

“I’m not a genius, Shin-chan. I need you to spell it out for me.” He buries his face in his hands again, voice muffled and quiet. “…please.” There’s a note of something terribly lonely in his voice.

Midorima takes in his friend of three years, seated atop a lonely crag. Covered head to toe in garments. He’s hunched over with his face obscured, his hand together as if in supplication. The moon casts his figure in shadows and even at this distance, he seems so far away. He could be another galaxy.

“In first year,” Midorima’s voice states evenly, “when the captain made you run laps around the gym for being late. You collapsed on the ground and rolled over next to me, bumping against my leg.” Takao remains in the same position, but seems to be listening.

“At the end of the winter cup when you looked at me and told me you wouldn’t let me down again.”

“When you bought out the last curry bread and Miyaji threatened to throw a ball at your head and you ran down the corridor laughing.”

Takao lifts his head slowly and stares at Midorima.

“When you failed your math test and hid it in your desk, pretending it didn’t bother you. You were completely distracted the entire practice.”

“In the beginning of second year, when we looked at the class listings and your entire face lit up. You smiled at me and told me you were going to babysit me that year as well.”

“When we’re going home and you sing at the top of your lungs as you pedal.” Takao’s cheeks turn bright red.

“When we’re studying together and there’s nothing but silence. When you play with the pen in your hands, twirling it around.”

“When you pretended to be asleep that night in Kyoto.”

“When you come to me asking for help with your english homework even though it’s your best subject.”

“When you cry at the parts with people separating in romance movies, even though you always say horror movies are your favourite.”

Takao shouts at Midorima to stop talking, his expression blown wide open. His face is a burning red blur. Midorima opens his mouth again and Takao reaches over with a hand to stop him by force. Midorima wraps his long fingers around his wrist and pulls him close.

“I am attracted to you,” Midorima states simply and Takao makes a dying sound in his throat. “Frankly, it was impossible not to be given how dense you are.” He decides that a distance of five centimetres and a time of one hundred and twenty-four days is acceptable.

A hand brushes against his cheek. Takao looks at him, cheeks still bright and he smirks.

“Stop talking, nerd.” He pulls him close and brings their warm lips together. “I am attracted to you too.”

Midorima finds that part more than a little acceptable.


End file.
